Napalm
by Raquelitaaa
Summary: I've come to find out that I'm too stubborn for my own good, and that I reveal way too much. Draco is not going to stop now that Harry and Ron believe he won't succeed in learning how to use muggle appliances. What have I gotten myself into? DMXHG


_Napalm  
Chapter One: Car_

**Note: **So I was driving today, and, well, I get distracted easily. I saw a student driver and thought about something: "What would it be like to teach a wizard how to drive, or how to use a phone, or a television?" And alas, this happened. Enjoy. =)

I don't own any of the characters. I just twist the story JKR wrote for my own amusement.

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"You can't be serious, Hermione!" Ron chokes out through his laughter, "Teach… Teach _him _how to drive a _car_?" His question set off another bout of laughter around the Weasley's kitchen table, and I scowl at them all.

"It isn't impossible, Ronald," I say matter-of-factly while pouring some more wine into my glass.

"Oh yes it is! Teaching Malfoy how to drive a car is like teaching Ron to not speak when his mouth is full: Highly impossible," Ginny says from her seat next to Harry, who is red from laughing.

"Well I don't see you all carrying driver's licenses on your persons," I snap.

"Because wizards don't need one, 'Mione! We can apparate, and use the Floo network," Ron tries to reason, but I scoff at his idea.

"Draco and I live quite a ways from the city. And while I'm well aware that using Floo powder is easier than driving, it's a valuable learning experience. Besides, I love to drive, and I prefer it to using a damn broomstick," I am not shocked by my curse word. After spending so much time with Draco Malfoy, his offensive language tends to rub off on everybody, including me.

"I would love to be there to witness this truly catastrophic event, but I have work in the morning," Harry reminds everyone before he and Ginny stand to retire for the night, "I wish you the best of luck. You're going to need it," He says while trying to hide his grin.

I wave to them as they go upstairs then deftly hit Ron on his shoulder with my purse, "I'll show you. Draco won't be that bad of a driver," I say before apparating home.

--

"Why in Merlin's name am I doing this, again?" Draco complains for what seems like the millionth time as we stand outside my black car.

I smile sweetly at him and say, "Because you love me." I hear him mutter something as he climbs into the passenger seat but decide not to try to decipher what he said. That would only lead to an argument, and my head is already spinning from his whining.

"I just wanted to sleep in today since it is my _only _day off, but no, you're making me drive this… this metal death trap!" Draco looks around the car in horror; why, I'll never know. My car is immaculately clean. He turns back to me and sighs, "You're lucky I love you so much."

I smile happily as we drive down our street toward the empty muggle school. My father had taught me to drive the summer before my seventh year at Hogwarts, and ever since I have loved it. Ron, who knows next to nothing about cars, thinks I only like it because I have "control issues", and being behind the wheel "empowers me". Harry, on the other hand, has driven once and said it's not as bad as most wizards think.

I glance at Draco out of the corner of my eye and stifle a laugh. He looks positively terrified. The fact that he's showing any emotion at all is a huge step up from what he was like during his first few years at Hogwarts. After the Final Battle, when we all returned for our official seventh year, he and I somewhat clicked during the times we saw each other studying in the library. It was only after school when we got jobs in the same department at the Ministry that we grew to be more than just friends.

And now, a year after that, we're happily together, and engaged. It took him months of knowing me to allow me to see any emotion other than hate, and it gradually grew to less destructive emotions in the passing months. The one look I had yet to see on his face until this moment was terror. He is gnawing on his bottom lip, his eyes wide and his face pale. I can see his hands gripping the seat and that's when I realize he doesn't have his seatbelt on.

I slam on the brakes, thankful that no one was behind us, and glare at him. He turns to look at me with wild eyes, "What in the hell was that about, Hermione?!" He exclaims.

"You don't have your seatbelt on," I remind him, pointing to the strap of cloth dangling uselessly on his left side.

"The _what_?" He hisses, obviously confused and a bit frustrated.

I sigh and roll my eyes. Sometimes he can be so thick. "It's supposed to save your life in case of an accident," I say while I reach over and pull the seatbelt across his chest and snap it into place. I watch as he glances down at the strap then furrow my eyebrows in confusion when he starts to laugh hysterically.

A few moments pass before he's calm enough to breathe, let alone speak, "Th…This is suppose to stop be from dying?!" He howls with laughter again, and I begin to wonder if he's gone mad.

"Yes, Draco, it does. It's been proven. If you're not wearing it you have a higher risk of dying in a car crash," I point out before putting the car into drive again.

I turn on the radio to drown out the sound of his mutterings. I love him to death, but it's difficult to put up with his childish whines after a certain amount of time. He folds his arms across his chest and pouts like a three year old, and while I admit the face is cute, his behavior is not.

When we pull into the parking lot of the school and I get out of the car, Draco reluctantly follows. We stand in front of the car staring at each other for a while in a standoff before his shoulders slump in defeat and he slides into the driver's seat. I smirk in victory and take his previous spot in the car, making sure to buckle my seatbelt.

"What am I supposed to do?" He growls.

"Well first, you _put on your seatbelt_," I say forcefully, my eyes narrowing into slits.

I'm surprised he listens to me without protest, but I suppose that he'd rather not make me even more agitated with him. I say, "Okay, now the first thing you need to remember is to be a defensive driver. Never, ever let your guard down. Other drivers will be more confident, but those are the ones who tend to get cocky and get into wrecks. Now, adjust your mirrors so you can see out of all of them and turn the car on."

He does, so I continue, "Now you want to put your foot on the break. The left pedal. There you go," I smile encouragingly at him, "You always have to have your foot on the break when you change gears. I'm not even going to attempt to show you how to drive stick –"

"I'm not sure if I want to know how to drive a _stick_," Draco mumbles jokingly, and I can't help but laugh at his crude humor.

"So now that your foot is on the brake pedal, shift the car into drive," I say, putting my small hand over his large one and helping him move the gear shift into drive. I nod when he looks at me in confusion, "Now just ease off of the break, but make sure not to press down on the accelerator too hard, or else we'll go shooting off and probably hit something. Once you step off the break move your right foot onto the gas and gently, _gently _push on it."

I can't help but feel anxious. Draco looks like he's about to have a panic attack. I place my hand on his leg to help ease his worries and hold my breath. I'm shocked at how well he's doing as we drive around the parking lot. Once we get started and are going a bit faster I let go of the breath I had been holding.

I watch happily as Draco begins to calm down, a small smile spreading across his lips. The nerves that had been bundled in my stomach leave once I realize he's not a terrible driver. I say, "Okay, now put your foot on the brake, and we can stop for now."

Draco glances at me and when he steps on the brake I am instantly thrown forward, the seatbelt locking and strangling me. I gasp for air and then glare over at him while rubbing my throat, "I said step on the brake, not stomp!"

"I did step on it! You should have been clearer with your directions next time," Draco says nonchalantly, as if my being strangled because of his careless ways never happened.

I huff angrily and throw off the seatbelt, "You choked me with the seatbelt."

"Not on _purpose_. Can you stop acting so immature?" He asks, but his voice is apologetic despite the smirk on his face that shows his amusement.

I agree only because I don't want to argue with him; not now, anyway. He had been good about driving since he got into the driver's seat, and I didn't want to push my luck with saying something negative and him refusing to learn anymore, "Are you ready to learn how to park?"

"I suppose," he mumbles, pushing some locks of blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Okay, so just drive around for a while, and when I say so, you can pull into a parking space."

"What does a parking space look like?" He asks, and I wonder if he's joking.

"In between the white lines, Draco," I sigh, "When I say to park, just pull the car in between the white lines."

Once again, my stomach twists nervously as we make our rounds around the parking lot. I clutch the side of my seat as we go around turns, and once we're driving for a few minutes, I begin to relax and breathe normally. I say, "Alright, pull into a space."

Draco chooses one in front of a curb and before I can coach him, he swings the car sharply to the left. I let out a tiny shriek as I realize we are not going to stop in time as Draco hasn't even realized that he needs to brake in order to park. Before I can tell him to stop the car, it bounces over the curb and crashes into some thick bushes.

"BRAKE!" I yell before the car can continue on its path of destruction. When he does I quickly put the car into park with extremely shaky hands.

"Hermione…" Draco whispers. He sees my shaking body, hears the short, ragged breaths escaping my lungs, can feel how upset I am. He reaches out and pulls me into a tight hug, and it instantly calms me, as it always has.

"Oh, Draco. I'm sorry," I mumble against his cotton shirt.

"For what, love?" He asks, stroking my hair.

I glance up at him and laugh, "For making you learn how to drive. Obviously you weren't meant to. Otherwise we wouldn't have crashed into some bushes. Maybe Harry and Ron were right. It is impossible for you to learn how to use muggle devices."

"They said that?!" He yelps, outraged.

I nod, containing my smirk, "They said that since you can't use any muggle appliance, it will be impossible to teach you how to drive."

"Well, I'm sure Potter and Weasel don't know how to drive either, so they have no room to talk," Draco says, his voice reverting back to that of a whining ten year old.

"I have faith in you, Draco. Maybe we should start with smaller objects and then work our way up to cars? I want to have children someday, and I don't want them to live in a household with just magic. Muggle ways are useful too, you know," I say to him as I pull away and unbuckle.

"I just want to prove those two blubbering idiots wrong," Draco mutters darkly while climbing out of the car.

I laugh quietly to myself as I get back into the driver's seat. I suddenly feel tons better, and when I place my hands on the wheel I feel as though a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Maybe Ron is right. Maybe I do have "control issues", and being in control of a car helps me relax. I smirk at the thought and drive the car off of the grass.

"Do Pothead and Weasel think I can't use any other muggle appliances?" He inquires after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"Once, don't call Harry "Pothead". Two, Ron is not a weasel. And I guess. I mean, you did come from a family who resented muggles in general, so they probably doubt that you'd be able to use a hair dryer, let alone drive a car," I say without thinking. When I hear him growl I turn abruptly to look at him, "Why do you even care?"

"Because… I just… I just do! They think they're better than me because they know how to use a… What'd you just say? A hair dryer? Like I said, I'll show them," Draco says ferociously. The determined look on his face frightens me a bit. I'm not sure if I'm up to teaching him how to use every electronic under the sun.

His determination soon turns into a smirk, and I wonder, what did I just get myself into?

--

**Note: **So I decided to make this into a short story. I figured it would be a fun project. I may come back and change a few things, but for now I'm content with it. So review, and tell me what you think, please! =)


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